Movin’ Out

I have lived in six different cities, villages or towns over the course of my life, encompassing 10 actual moves. On April 1, I’ll make move #11. This isn’t a huge move; S and I are just moving to a bigger apartment.

With every move, I tend to jettison as many items as possible and I resolve not to acquire anything that I don’t need, knowing that I might someday move again. I can look anyone straight in the eye and say that I’ve been damned good about keeping this particular resolution. After going so far as to pay people to haul away things, I’m not so quick to buy knick-knacks, accessories or even cooking gadgets without being sure that I’ll use them on at least a weekly basis.

But here I sit, exhausted after yet another night of packing, nonplussed by the fact that I have packed 15 boxes dishes, boxes, stemware, Corningware, utensils, and boxed and canned food, only to find that I’m still not all packed yet. On top of that, I still need more boxes.

Why? I ask myself, knowing that the only stemware I have was what I inherited from my mother. I have one set of dishes and one set of inexpensive glasses from Wal-Mart. I even gave away some things to lighten my load. Still…I don’t even recall what is in some of those boxes marked “Fragile.”

I haven’t even touched my 8, 12 and 16 quart stockpots yet. Considering those, the frying pans, the smaller pots and the Dutch ovens, I am moving some heavy metal this week.